Collection Plate
by Thunder-Nari
Summary: A collection of drabbles. Any that I write will be posted here. Mostly slash and mostly Ats though there may be some Btvs as well.
1. Tangled AngelWes

So this will simply be a collection of any drabbles I write (probably won't be many). Instead of posting such short things as different stories, I'll just post them all here as separate chapters. Probably all be slashy but who knows, anything could happen. Any pairing is possible.

This is Polo's fault. She said Wes was tangled. She meant Wes the ferret but clearly I had other thoughts.

**Tangled**

There was no feasible way he could hide the snicker of amusement.

How someone could possibly get themselves that tangled was beyond him. It wasn't like there had been a nightmare or even good dream involved, Wes had been sleeping peacefully all night. Yet now here he was, tangled in sheets that seemed determined to keep him in the bed.

Angel couldn't exactly disagree with them. After all Wes in bed was nothing but good. Naked Wes in bed was perfect.

Even with that doomsday glare he had aimed in Angel's direction. "You know, instead of gawking at me you could perhaps lend a hand?"

Angel fought back another snicker and stepped forward. Got them both tangled in the sheets instead.


	2. Lure SpikeGunn

**Lure**

There were eyes on him from across the room. He could feel them, boring into his back, watching his every move. Stalking and hunting him. Taking the lure.

A hand grabbed hold of his wrist and drug him out onto the crowded dance floor. He didn't resist, following the girl out, head tipping back slightly when she pressed against him in some version of a dance. Exposing his neck to those eyes that he knew were watching.

He could sense the growl from across the room.

Hook, line and sinker. Spike would be all his before the night was out.


	3. Never Fade AngelWes

This story is a variation off a series of stories written by Chlare. The original idea is credited to her. I don't know if this will be confusing or not without having read hers...

**Never Fade**

It would always fade.

Anything he did, any mark he made, it would all fade. He could - and did - do it nearly every night. Pressed the cool metal to Angel's chest and watched as it burned. By morning the mark would have lightened. By that night it would have disappeared altogether.

When he was forced to leave for two weeks he did so in despair. The mark would fade and not be replaced. Fade away to nothing and the inexplicable fear flooded in that surely Angel would follow. That Angel's love would vanish along with the marks the binded them.

When he came back he found himself tossed over Angel's shoulder before a word could be spoken and packed upstairs. He didn't protest. Didn't protest as Angel ran long missed fingers over him, stripping him of clothes and skimming over the still faint burn on his own chest. His at least would remain.

His own hands skated over Angel's chest, loosening buttons to push the fabric of his shirt aside. Dark red of a cross burned into skin stared back at him. His mark, still there, still fresh.

Angel dangled a matching cross to Wesley's own before him at the look of confusion and smiled.

"I'd never let it fade."


	4. Something Different GilesEthan

**Something Different**

His footsteps drug heavily, rubber soles of sneakers scuffing the pavement with each step. Another morning, another day, another routine. Always it was the same. Reading and learning and listening. Just once how he would love for something different. Something exciting, something thrilling. Something that would really turn the world upside down. Or his world at least. Then maybe he could turn the rest of the world upside down himself. Give everybody a bit of a turn from the everyday.

Another set of footsteps reached his ears. Rupert looked up.

Ethan Rayne.


	5. Something About Storms AngelWes

**Something About Storms**

There was just something calming about a thunderstorm. To most people he supposed this wouldn't be true but for him...nothing could be better. Everything is quieter, slower, easier. The troubles from the city seem muted, the rain washing all the noise away so that all he can hear is the rythmic thrumming over the glass and sides of the hotel.

Everything slows down, the usual air of urgency melting away. No other noise but the rain gets through and he may as well be the only one alive.

It's when he loves Angel the most. Just the two of them in the world. The urgency, noise, everything...washed away like anything else to be replaced with gentle touches and soft murmering as Angel pumps into him. Slowly, carefully. Lips and tongue gently tracing over his skin, lavishing him, whispering words into his ear that he rarely hears though he craves them.

It's when he loves Angel the most. Because it's when Angel seems to return it.


	6. Rain GunnWes

There was a thunderstorm tonight. It's inspiring. nods Enjoy.

**Rain**

The sky lit up again with a brilliant flash. Gunn huddled further under the mound of blankets, drawing them up tighter around himself and listened to the rain that was beginning to drive down.

It was always hell living on the streets but never worse than during a storm like this. Humid muggy weather that just made him feel as if he couldn't breath, rain dragging the smog down into his lungs and choking him. If he was lucky enough he could get out of the rain that soaked through tattered clothes and left him shivering so violently he could think he'd gone into convulsions.

The thunder crashed and shook, only a moment later. The storm was directly over top of them, beating everything down into submission and driving the life out of it.

A warm hand settled over his shoulder and the bed dipped next to him. A moment later and a warm body pressed close behind him as he watched the rain pelt against the window panes.

He smiled slightly. Let the rain come down. With Wes' arms wrapped around him and Wes' scent surrounding him in the blankets he could take on anything.


	7. Blue SpikeWes

It poured down around them, blacking out the sky and blurring their vision as the water fell into their eyes. But the enemy was broken and down. The rain was washing it away.

It didn't wash away death or grief. It washed away tears and blood. It didn't change the fact that teammates were dead. It didn't change the fact that lovers were dead. 

_Wesley..._

Angel stood next to him in the alley. They looked to the horizon and saw the break in the clouds, the daylight managing to stream through it. They shared a look, a tick of a smile over Angel's lips.

"Looks like blue sky."

Spike nodded and they moved to gather and save the survivors.


	8. Lightening SpikeWes

It happens once. When he's working late and everyone has gone home, except Spike who doesn't have one.

Spike may not be able to touch but hell, can he talk. His sinful voice and wicked images bring Wes to a crescendo that leaves Wes panting and dazed.

He figures that it will never happen again. A one time thing because things like this just don't strike more than once. But when Spike comes sauntering into his office after hours, Wesley amends the theory that maybe lightening can strike twice after all.

And a hell of a lot of times after that as well.


	9. Outsides SpikeWes

Spike's hands smoothed over his back again and Wesley sighed, arching up into the contact only to get a chiding 'tsk' from Spike.

"Stay still, pet. Point of a massage is to relax, not get bloody turned on."

Wesley received a swat on the ass when he tried again to press into the touch. He turned his head so that he could look up at Spike, trying for innocence as he wiggled into the touch again.

"Feels good."

"Then stop moving."

Wesley sighed, long-suffering, and laid his head back down, letting Spike's fingers work into the stiff muscles.

Spike smiled as he watched his hands glide over skin. Wesley may as well have been a puddle for all the tension he was carrying now. He only wished that he could do for Wes' mind and heart what he could so easily for his body. Insides and outsides but Spike could only ever truly touch one.


	10. Rain SpikeWes

They said it never rains in sunny California. But it did and when it did, it poured. Figuratively and literally, it would seem.

He sighed as he watched the rain running in rivulets along the window panes. The glass of scotch was held loosely in his hand and balanced delicately on the cast that encased his leg. He should be out and helping the others, not sitting about in here because he tripped over some damn dog hiding in the alley to get out of the rain.

And the said dog should really not be sitting there, gazing up at him with big doe eyes like the sorriest looking thing in the world. It's eyes were still nothing in compared to the ones he'd gotten from Spike when the animal started yelping louder than Wesley after he'd tripped over it though. Sure, Wesley had only broken his knee from landing so hard on pavement, but the dog had been kicked and therefore deserved all the cooing.

Wesley rolled his eyes and looked away from the creature. It whined and rested it's head over his cast, soulful eyes turned upwards to him. Wesley glared down at it.

"This is your fault. You should have had the sense to move away from the band of demon hunters. We weren't exactly sneaking up on you."

And now the plans he'd had with Spike for the evening were ruined. Again. How many days in a row did that make now? Always one thing or another going wrong. And every evening ended up spent before the window and just watching the damned rain. And always alone because Spike had better things to do than sit around with a clumsy invalid.

The dog lifted it's paw up onto Wesley's cast, it's ears perking forward as if it had heard the thought. It whined again and Wesley rested his hand over the dogs head, ruffled it's ears. Surprising how the act made him smile.

Maybe not so alone after all. It was about time he forced Spike to go out and get some supplies for this thing.


	11. Star SpikeWes

Spike had been walking around with the stupid garish thing stuck to his jacket all day. It was certainly an attention getter which was why Spike wore it. Pride pinned to him.

Wesley knew better. The giant sized slightly misshapen gold star that stuck to Spike's shoulder brought a bright smile to both the vampire and the little girl that had made it for him after he'd saved her father. Wesley hadn't seen anything lift the vampires spirits more than that since he'd first shown up.

Not even the kiss that Wesley gave him as reward for being the hero.


End file.
